


The Scars That Define Us (And The Thread That Binds Them Together)

by Nihonkikuasa211



Category: Code Black (TV)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Love Confessions, Past Relationship(s), Scarves, Tag to 1x18, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 16:58:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6574444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nihonkikuasa211/pseuds/Nihonkikuasa211
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Of Pain, Warmth, And Home." Christa and Neal share their histories with each other and share the scars of their hearts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Scars That Define Us (And The Thread That Binds Them Together)

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone is reading this for the first time, please read the first story first.

_The Scars That Define Us (And The Thread That Binds Them Together)  
_

            _“Come home with me.”_

The two of them said nothing when they entered Christa’s car. It seemed as if both the resident and attending were in suspended animation, with no words to spare. Or perhaps both of them were still too shocked to say anything.

            Christa looked back at the man riding across from her in her car, her very breath stolen from her at his presence. She couldn’t believe that he was here. _With me._ It seemed almost impossible to believe that Neal was beside her side again. How many times had, deep within her heart, that she had wished for this? She could see at the corner of his eye that he was looking at her too, his dark eyes focusing on her face.

            The intensity of his expression made Christa blush. Inside her heart was clenching, and her eyes followed his despite a small voice inside of her telling her that she should be focused on the road. It was almost as if the blond resident could see every emotion Neal was experiencing. She could almost feel the feelings coming off in waves, and Christa blinked away the tears that were building in her eyes at the look of uncertainty on his face. Taking a breath, she brushed her left hand against his for a moment. _I’m not having any regrets,_ is what she was trying to tell him through her touch, and Neal slowly relaxed. Although her hand was above his, she could feel the warmth of his skin. How long had it been since she had touched him like this? Christa’s mind indirectly flashbacked to of how Grace had held Neal’s hand after the surgical attending was contemplating the decision he had made. Somehow this felt more intimate. Perhaps it was because it was a feather-light touch that spoke of the feelings she had for him, or perhaps…

            It was because Neal gently kissed her hand before the red light changed.

            Christa could still remember of how Neal’s lips against her hand felt even after she exited her car and stared at the small place that was her house. The sun was barely shining, with faint oranges and red painted across the sky. The red almost looked like blood, spilling across the sky like a hemorrhage. As if illustrating the pain that Christa and Neal had experienced after six months apart. It was as if he had never kissed her that way before, although there had been many times in which he did or similar things. The blond resident looked at him now, staring at the attending as his dark eyes observed the sky.

            _I don’t know how –_ Shaking her head, Christa withdrew the thought as soon as it came to her mind. Perhaps the unsaid words were in her mind, for a small smile appeared on her face when she and Neal walked into the doorway.

            There wasn’t much in the house. Christa’s past was too painful to plainly show her wounds; all of the memories that she had of her son were locked inside one single room. His toys were neatly stacked together and the pictures from infanthood were all straightened along the walls. Most would consider it not moving on, and that the resident should see a psychiatrist. However, Christa didn’t care what anyone thought. Knowing the that memories of her son were still there gave her strength, and at times, it was her refuge during after a hard shift. Sometime during her residency, Christa started to wonder of what Neal would think of this room. For the first time in many years, Christa worried of what he would think. Would he think less of her? She licked her lips, and stared with sorrowful eyes at the thought of her son. The little boy who had been her world would love Neal so much.

            “Christa?” The second year resident wouldn’t answer him, although she looked back in his direction. Neal had a concerned expression on his face, and his dark brown eyes held unspoken questions as Christa continued to stare at him with a distant look in her eyes.

            “I don’t know why I brought you here,” she confessed quietly. She wouldn’t meet Neal’s eyes. “I just…wanted you to come home with me. I just wanted to be with you, Neal. I didn’t…” She bit her lip. Uncontrollable emotions were growing inside her chest, making it hard to think. “I haven’t had anyone come here before.”

            It appeared that Neal understood. A knowing expression appeared in his eyes, and he moved closer to Christa. The blond resident unconsciously – almost by accident, or perhaps memory – allowed him to hold her as her head was buried in his shoulder.

            “I’m not just Dr. Christa Lorenson,” she whispered as tears started to leak from her eyes. She willed herself not to shake. “I’m also a grieving woman who lost her son. Who still…” A sharp breath came from her chest, and Christa could see her tears starting to soak into Neal’s clothes.

“Have I told you of how I couldn’t even cry when he died? I just felt so numb…as if I was already dead.” A soft sob tore from Christa’s throat. “The pain…I thought it would kill me. I thought it was better to be... _there_ with him than living an empty existence.” Her tears were blurring her vision. _I never…told anyone this before._ “The two years before that were nothing compared to the emptiness I had inside. My ex-husband left. I had no one. And even now…” It shocked her of how she was telling him this. Telling him the truths of her heart. She hadn’t told anyone, truly, that she felt so empty, so lost, when her son had died. Of how she felt as if she was dead. “A broken woman is who I am…a woman who still keeps all of her son’s belonging as if –”

            “I kept Grace’s ring for a long time.” Neal’s voice was soft. His voice was almost inaudible, and the expression in his eyes shone with unforgotten wounds. He had interrupted her; not to tell her that she wrong and that she needed to move on; but to tell her something that she was certain the British doctor hadn’t told anyone before. “There were times when I simply stared at the ring for hours, wondering what had happened. I didn’t understand why she said no. And for a long time, Christa, I acted as if we were still together.” Neal paused, the heaviness in his voice palpable as he stared at the woman warmly. “I acted, in my heart, as if nothing had happened. I buried myself into work to forget the pain and reality of what happened.”

            “I thought I loved her, Christa.” There was haunted pain in his eyes as he spoke. “I thought that she knew me more than anyone, including myself. And…when we about to go to Haiti, I proposed to her.”

            Neal swallowed heavily, and a shuddering breath escaped from him. There was a clouded agonized expression in his eyes, and his eyes blinked rapidly.

            “As I told you before, she said no. I…was devastated. I didn’t know what to do. I…didn’t know what to do with what was left of my heart that I believed was broken beyond repair.” Christa started stroking Neal’s back, gently and hoping that she could heal the pain that she could hear. “All I had was my work, and I often lied alone, wondering what had happened. I thought…Grace was happy. Just like I was. I kept the ring that I thought would become the symbol of…what we had for a long time. The pain that you experienced…I cannot even begin to contemplate.” A slight gleam appeared in Neal’s eyes. “But I too felt as if I was numb, dead to the world. My heart had been torn out of me.”

            Christa was only able to listen to hear Neal’s breathing as he told her the story that scarred his heart. Both of them didn’t say anything for a while, as if burdened by what they had confessed from their hearts.

            Neal sighed and unconsciously calmed as Christa’s fingers started to comb through his hair. His eyes closed for a moment.

            “Then I gave back the ring to the jeweler four months before you came to Angles.” His voice was thick, and Christa could feel the tightness of his form as she continued to listen to him. “It was a couple of months after she had left, and I thought it was the hardest thing I thought I had done.”

            _That you thought…?_ Christa wondered. She removed her head from Neal’s shoulder, and could see a familiar saddened look. The same look he had given her when she walked away.

            “The hardest decision was to allow you to walk away, Christa.”

            Christa allowed her soulful eyes to look into Neal’s. There was so much love in them Christa couldn’t understand of how she ever doubted that he loved her.

            “I am so glad that Grace rejected me, Christa.” Neal’s voice was almost breathless as their hands entwined. “Because then I wouldn’t have been able to love you. I wouldn’t have been able to realize of what true love was.” Gently, Neal caressed her cheek. “Nothing could have prepared me for the feelings that I have for you, and I’m so very grateful.”

            He leaned down to her ear and whispered.

            “Thank you for allowing me to know what true love is.”

            _Love._

The one word caused Christa’s heart to pound painfully. Tears started to roll down her cheeks as she observed the man who she thought had chosen her as his second choice. Empathy filled her gaze as she realized the pain Neal must have gone through – in many ways it mirrored her own grief, of how the scars and wounds still pained her.

            Still pained them both.

            “There were so many things that I wanted to say to you,” Christa murmured. She pulled her hand away from Neal’s own gently and palmed his cheek. “I wanted to ask you of why you made me feel this kind of pain, and of _why_ it hurt so much. I couldn’t get you out of my head.” Her chest tightened, and her vision started to blur. Her hands started to gently caress Neal’s face, as if it was more precious than anything she had ever touched before. “I couldn’t get the pained expression you gave to me out of my mind.” Her face moved closer to his, and Christa could feel his breath on hers. “And now I know why.”

            “It is because…my feelings for you are deafening. To me…” She swallowed. The lonely nights of clutching the red and black scarf burned in her mind. “To me, you are my scarf. My warmth. My comfort. You still were, even after we broke up. And it is because I too…love you.”

            “I love you.”

            Christa was crying. Her tears were rolling onto the floor, and her blue eyes met Neal’s. Unguarded expressions were reflected in both of their eyes.

            Slowly, Neal took his arms away from her. Confusion marred Christa’s expression, and she was becoming more bewildered when Neal suddenly began reaching for something in his pocket.

            “I wanted to give this to you,” Neal stated softly as he began to unravel the material. Christa could only see it was blue. His hands were gentle as the material was shown to her. It was a scarf. The blond resident almost gasped of how well it was sown. Every thread was perfect, and Christa almost wanted to touch the material. Her fingers touched the scarf gently, and she was surprised to find that it was not made out of wool. Instead, it was made out of cashmere and felt so soft against Christa’s fingers. It was the color of not quite-baby blue. Slightly darker, and Neal’s fingers softly pulled Christa away from the scarf as he put it around her neck.

            It took only a moment for Christa to realize that the color of the scarf material was the same color as her eyes. Her heart beating with so much love that she almost couldn’t speak, Christa could see that the scarf was long. Long enough to be wrapped around twice.

            “You made this?” She asked, hardly able to look at Neal from the material around her.

            He only nodded. His dark eyes appeared to be observing her, and a small smile appeared on his lips as Neal started to come closer to her.

            “Mum taught me how to sew when I was a boy.” A slightly sheepish expression echoed across his face, and Christa almost wanted to laugh. “It seems some stereotypes aren’t that far from the truth.”

            “Doing that…sowing a scarf that I thought hoped that you would wear helped me, Christa.” The blond resident was about to open her mouth again, but Neal hushed her by bringing his finger to her lips. He was so close to her now that she could count every one of his eyelashes. Her heartbeat echoed in her ears, and not from pain this time.

            Carefully, Christa held the part of the scarf that was not around her neck and put it across Neal’s neck.

            For a moment, Neal looked surprised. Then he saw the small smile growing on Christa’s face and relaxed. His breathing was calming down, and Christa could see his eyes’ pupils dilating as it seemed to be the only thing he could see.

            “I want you to know that I love the way you laugh,” Neal whispered. He pressed his forehead against hers, and the resident could see the blue scarf was wrapped around them both. “I love of how you smile, and…everything about you.” There was nothing but sincerity in his voice. “I want to know you, Christa. Everything. Including about a boy who still means so very much to you.”

            “I meant what I said,” Christa stated softly as she pressed closer to Neal. The scarf was warm and soft. “I had no regrets about that night. And about your arms being around me with the scarf you gave me back then.”

            Only now Christa had something more intimate than that. It was made by the hands of a man who could do surgery, and whose gentleness surpassed all others. He created a material based on the color of her eyes. It wasn’t something bought in a store. It came from his heart.

            A beautiful heart that Christa understood, now, loved her.

            “And now it feels as if by making this scarf, I can feel your warmth more than ever.”

            A blissful smile appeared on Christa’s face, and she allowed Neal’s gentle hands to cup her face.

            “It connect us,” Neal stated as she felt his hands curl through her hair. “Like a thread, connecting our thoughts and feelings.”

            _Like a red string of fate._ Christa smiled. Her smile grew wider as Neal’s lips captured hers. The kiss was enough to take her breath away, and hands captured the scarf around them both, causing their lips to touch even more. _You are my home, Neal._

_My scarf…taking away all the pain and cold from the world._

_I love you._


End file.
